


A Field Guide to Ferelden Courting Rituals

by laurpas



Series: Gratitude [4]
Category: Dragon Age II
Genre: Courting Rituals, Fluff, Humor, M/M, chickens on the other hand are not nearly so objectionable, cursing, goats are The Worst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-14
Updated: 2016-10-14
Packaged: 2018-08-22 10:49:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,813
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8283194
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/laurpas/pseuds/laurpas
Summary: Fenris, while assisting Aveline during "The Long Road" gets a few ideas of his own...As always, this can be read apart from the other stories in the series and still, mostly, make sense.





	

**Author's Note:**

> i'm sorry if anyone reading this loves goats as this fic undoubtedly comes across as very anti-goat. i'm sure that the ones i've worked with in the past just happened to be bad apples. or maybe they're all bad apples. MAYBE there is a reason goats are associated with satan.   
> okay. anyway.
> 
> i wanted to add smut to this and that might happen eventually but for now this is the story in its entirety, if i do it'll just end up being another chapter and rating/tags will be updated.

 

  Hawke entered his home without knocking as she was wont to do, stomping around the main floor and trying to avoid the sodden, rotted bits of flooring until finally Fenris appeared at the top of the stairs grumbling and pulling on the last bits of his armor.  

  “Yes my friend?” He asked, dragging Lethendralis behind him as he made his way down the stairs.

  “Aveline needs help,” she replied, picking at the underside of one of her boots with her dagger in order to remove something unidentifiable she had stepped on in the living room, “I was hoping you might want to come along.”

  “Is she in danger?” His steps down the stairs quickened even as he maintained his calm tone. Aveline was a good woman- He even considered her a friend and he hoped that she was not badly hurt.

  “No- Just… Acting a little strangely.” Sighing, Hawke resheathed her dagger and crossed her arms over her chest. “Something to do with some guardsmen- Donnic or whatever.” 

  Fenris had met the man once or twice while assisting Hawke and Aveline in the barracks and had had a good impression of the man. But he knew just as well that the guard had been rife with corruption before Aveline had taken over as captain and couldn’t help but wonder if Donnic had been a part of the old guard, so to speak.

  “I will come along,” he finally replied and Hawke, knowing that he would have little else to say, turned away and began heading out the front door where Isabela, Varric and Merrill were waiting, the dwarf entertaining them with some wild story. Though he didn’t show it Fenris felt a pang of disappointment that Hawke hadn’t chosen to bring Anders along, even if he was unsurprised. Neither man had told the rest of the group about their… Relationship and Hawke was likely just trying to avoid conflict, nevermind that their arguments, subtly but surely, had turned more good-natured as of late.

  Still he followed along quietly, letting the conversation between his other four companions flow over him as his own thoughts wandered. Now that he thought about it he hadn’t seen Anders for some time- At least a few weeks. He knew that he’d gone out with Hawke recently to the Wounded Coast, but apparently he hadn’t thought to come and visit him in his mansion and the last time they’d met at Wicked Grace he hadn’t said much to him. No, he was- Fenris was sure that he was just busy with his clinic, as always, and it would be wrong to disturb him in any case. 

  With a deep frown he continued trudging along behind Hawke, still trying to convince himself that nothing was the matter. 

  
  
  


  “But Hightown is a safe patrol- A reward-”

  He raised both eyebrows at Aveline’s words, having assumed that Donnic was being investigated. Perhaps he was not a bad man after all, for which Fenris would be glad.

  “You wanted his reaction,” Hawke replied, a little furrow appearing between her brows as it always did when she couldn’t make sense of something.

  “All right, I can fix this,” Aveline muttered with a sigh as she began to pace in front of the small group. “I need… I need three goats and a sheaf of wheat. You’ll take them to his mother.”

  Hawke’s furrow deepened and he watched as she shot a look to Varric who returned her expression with a shrug.

  “It’s a dowry tradition. Maybe it will smooth the process.” He’d never seen Aveline look so abashed before and then suddenly the meaning of her words hit him and he found himself blinking at her in shock.

  “A dowry? Then… This isn’t about accusations.”

  “No, it’s not,” she replied, a miserable look on her face.

  “She’s courting the man,” he said with a small note of wonder in his voice, “With a fear reserved for dragons.”

  She turned to Hawke then, seeking her help as she had in the past, as they all had at one point or another. It was one of the reasons they were all so loyal to the woman- For all that they might disagree Hawke protected her own, and did whatever she could for them.    

  Distantly he was aware of Hawke putting a plan forward but mostly he was thinking about Anders. He’d assumed that the man had never wanted their relationship to go beyond the physical, Fenris couldn’t imagine that he was of much interest to an intelligent, educated Circle mage such as Anders when he couldn’t even read or write, but what if he had been wrong?

  What if Anders had not just wanted, but actually expected to be properly courted? Fenris knew that relationships were forbidden within the Circles but he also knew that Anders had been taken in at a relatively old age and that, what was more, he had had some kind of long term, dedicated relationship before his escape. (Or so Hawke had told him- She’d only mentioned it once, when she’d been trying to get Fenris to go a little easier on the mage.)  

  “Fenris?” 

  His head shot up as he broken out of his reverie- Varric, Merril and Aveline were all gone and it was just him and Hawke standing there. From the way she was looking at him he could tell that she had been forced to say his name several times to get a response.

  “My apologies,” he said, “I was… Thinking on Aveline’s problem.”

  “I’m sure you were,” Hawke spoke, with an amused little smile on her mouth. “And not, of course, any of your own issues.”

  He felt his face slowly redden and silently prayed that Hawke wouldn't be able to tell against his darker skin. By the way she was smirking he knew that the Maker had, once again, turned a deaf ear to his prayers.

  “I won’t pry,” she said, “I know how you value your privacy. She’s a lucky woman though- I hope she’s treating you well.”

  “Well enough.” He hesitated and then quickly said, “ _ He  _ is treating me well.”

  She chuckled and, batting her eyelashes at him asked, “Is that all I am to know about this mysterious lover? His gender?”

  Anders had not specifically told Fenris to keep their association a secret but as Fenris wasn’t an idiot he knew better than to tell Hawke anything. And besides, what business was it of hers? Of anyone else’s?

  Trudging past her he grumbled something, ignoring Hawke’s good natured laugh behind him. 

  “One of these days,” she called after him, “I’ll at least get a name.”

  Assuming that was, he would have a name to give her. 

  
  
  


  Anders stumbled into his clinic after a long and painful outing with Hawke intending to go straight to his bed only to stop and stare at the sight before him. On one of the cots lay a large, handsome bundle of wheat and, tied to another cot, stood three goats.

  Well, he assumed that they had been tied to the cot- One of them still was but the other two had managed to chew through the rope binding. Although Anders would have assumed that the wheat would be the most enticing food it appeared that he did not know goats very well at all. Instead one of them had made his way straight to the bandaging supplies and Anders’ eyes, slowly widening in horror, traveled along the trail of half-eaten gauze and bindings to find a very fat, and very pleased, goat at the end of it. 

  The other one was standing on his mixing tables where it had clearly shoved off several of the metal and, he winced, glass instruments and appeared to be in the middle of sedately chewing on some fresh elfroot. 

  He didn’t know whether to laugh or cry- Clearly this was a gift from one of his more grateful patients (though he had no idea where a Darktown refugee would have gotten such a nice bundle of wheat and a goat, let alone  _ three)  _ but now his clinic lay half-destroyed and he had three goats that he had no idea what the hell to do with.

  Well, there was that old goat soup recipe his mother had taught him growing up…

  One of the goats, appearing to sense the direction of his thoughts, opened its mouth:

  “AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH”

  The scream was piercing, worse than that of any man and so startling that Anders dropped his staff and bag in shock. 

  “Shhh! Shh shh-” Anders began to approach the one that continued to bleat at him, terrified that people outside the clinic would hear the screaming. Not, he realized after a moment, that that was such a strange noise coming from here. But Andraste’s Tits was it irritating to listen to. 

   “Here, goaty goat,” Anders pulled a scrap of his manifesto off of his desk and waved it in the air, appearing to get the screaming goat’s attention. It quieted until, relieved, Anders dropped his hand down and the paper with it.

  “AHHHHHHH-”

  “Fuck!” Anders held the paper up again, silencing the creature once more. Its eyes were pitiless, hungry, and he shivered to think of how much they reminded him of Darkspawn.

  He looked at the words on the paper, silently bemoaning the fact that they were likely about to get swallowed up by a gross, screaming ruminant. 

  “Sorry,” he whispered, whether to himself or Justice he did not know. 

  The goat had no remorse as it extended its neck, its large, blunt teeth snapping up the piece of paper and happily munching on it.

  The goat standing on his potions table, having watched all of this, opened its mouth.

  “BAH-

  “ **NO** ,” Anders said, and he could not help it if some of Justice leaked into his voice. 

  “BAH?” 

  “ **_NO_ ** .”

  He and the goat stared each other down for several long moments until finally the goat bleated again lamely and jumped to the floor, ambling over to his friend still tied to the cot. Anders watched him, feeling too tired and too old for this when he realized that the first goat was quickly working his way through the rope that had been tying his friend down.

_ To enslave another creature does not seem just,  _ a thought that Anders knew to be more Justice than himself as the last goat was finally freed from his bondge. 

  It screamed, what was probably supposed to be a happy sound, only for the other two to join in. Anders left then, a chorus of yelling pushing him out of his hovel and onto the slightly less noisy streets of Darktown.

  
  


  “Blondie,” Varric said, looking up with mild surprise as Anders stomped into his room in The Hanged Man. “You don’t usually come to play cards after a job.”

  Next to Varric sat Fenris who was trying mightily to keep a straight face. Undoubtedly Anders had come across the gifts that he had left for him and the elf was wound tight with nerves, wondering how the mage would react to them. Would he spurn him, having never desired something more serious? Would he be disgusted? Or would he, perhaps, accept them as the courting gifts they were- A testament to the depth of Fenris’ feelings for the other man?

  Though he tried to keep his hopes down Fenris could not help but imagine that the other man might, just might, return his feelings. Obviously the other man was attracted to him but to wish for more felt both dangerous and exhilarating.

  Anders sat down across from him but Fenris remained staring resolutely at his cards, heart beating madly. This was it, the moment of truth-

  “ _ Usually  _ I do not come home to find my clinic torn apart-”

  Fenris’ head whipped up, eyes going wide. 

  “Oh no, did the Templars come again?” Merrill asked from down the length of the table, eyes wide and shining as they so often were. 

  “No,” Anders spat venomously, “ _ Worse _ .”

  “Worse?” Several around the table asked in similarly disbelieving voices, incredulous that there was something that Anders hated more than templars. 

  “ _ Goats _ ,” he hissed, grabbing a mug of ale and beginning to drink it. Justice could go fuck himself- Anders was drinking tonight and that was that. Fenris, to whom the ale had belonged, said not one word. 

   He was doomed. Absolutely doomed. If, no,  _ when  _ Anders discovered that he was the one who had brought the plague of goats on his home he was going to end their tenuous relationship, no matter whatever tender feelings might have previously existed between them. 

  The elf had just wanted to prove that he lo-  _ Liked  _ Anders a great deal and in the process had ruined his clinic, easily the most important thing to him. 

  “Goats?” Isabela asked, eyebrows raised so high they almost disappeared into her bandana. “Do you mean that thing when a man-”

  “ _ No _ , goats as in- Goats. Like real, actual, animal goats.” Anders replied without looking back up at her, instead searching for any other glasses of alcohol he could filch. 

  “Ah,” she replied and, seemingly uninterested now, turned back to look at her cards. 

  “Why were there goats in your clinic Anders? I didn’t think most people were able to keep goats down in Darktown,” Merrill asked after making Isabela promised to explain her comment later.

  “They don’t. I haven’t the slightest clue- There were three of them, along with a healthy bundle of wheat. I think maybe a former patient of mine might have left them as a gift but if so then they can take them back.” He shook his head in disgust, “Should have gotten me a kitten if they’d really cared.”

  The part of Fenris that had begun internally screaming stopped for a moment to take this information in before resuming its loud wailing.

  “Wait, just to be clear, you found three goats and a sheaf of wheat in your clinic?” Hawke asked, eyes meeting Aveline’s briefly. 

  “Yes,” he grumbled, “As I said-”

  Aveline, Hawke, Varric and Isabela all made eyes at each other, each of them obviously having been there during Aveline’s ordeal. Merrill either hadn’t made the connection or didn’t care, too busy trying to hide her cards from Dog who was trying to cheat and read them. 

  “My, my,” Isabela said, chuckling, “It looks like someone is trying to court our little healer.” 

  Anders blinked, staring at her as if she’d grown a second head or, perhaps, put on a shirt that covered her cleavage. “ _ Excuse  _ me?”

  Isabela sent Aveline a look who returned it with a glare and mouthed, “Don't you dare wh-”

  “You were born in Ferelden, Anders,” Hawke smoothly interrupted, “I'm sure you remember that old courting ritual? You know, three goats and a sheaf of wheat given to one's mother? Except, I guess, your mother isn't here so…”

  He stared at Hawke and Isabela, obviously trying to formulate a response.

  “You're all putting me on, aren't you?” He said, trying to act indignant. In truth he felt a little deflated- when he had heard ‘courting' his thoughts had immediately gone to Fenris, hoping, for just a moment that maybe… But no, even if this was a real thing it was Ferelden and there was no way Fenris would have had anything to do with it.

  “It’s… Real,” Aveline finally said, “Though perhaps not common in the part of Ferelden where you grew up.”

  “I also was dragged off to the Circle when I was 13, before anyone might have thought to,” he grumbled, staring down at his ale, or rather, Varric’s ale which he had commandeered. Briefly he looked up at Fenris, desperate to know what he thought of all this. The elf was staring down at the table, face set in a terrible scowl. Unfortunately for Anders it didn't even look like a jealous scowl.

  “Well someone's sure thinking of it now,” Isabela purred and leaned forward towards Anders. “I wonder if you'll get any more gifts- perhaps some fancy chocolates or Orlesian lingerie.”

  The screaming in Fenris’ head stopped for a little bit longer this time, distracted by thoughts of Anders in something lacy and transparent. 

  “I hope not,” Anders snorted, “If their first gifts were anything to go by.” 

  “I can look into this if you want Blondie, make it clear you're not interested,” Varric said idly, not noticing the way that Fenris suddenly stiffened with alarm.

  “Thank you Varric,” Anders replied, waving a hand in his direction, “But it's alright, I'm sure they didn't mean any harm and I doubt they'll do it again.” He sighed even as he said the words, taking a deep draught of his, or rather Varric’s, ale. It was the right thing to do, to tell the dwarf not to bother, but there was a part of him that wanted to know if only so he could set some chickens or maybe pigs on  _ their  _ home.

  “If you say so,” Varric said, splitting the deck without much thought and beginning to deal the cards out. Subtly he shot Hawke a look which the other rogue returned with a small nod of her own. “Now, who’s ready for another round?”

  
  
  


  Part-way through the next game Fenris stood up and announced that, as he was very tired, he would be retiring early. Anders had looked at him in concern and, though he hated it, disappointment, having wanted to see the elf for a little bit longer than an hour.

  Not that this was a great way for them to see each other, what with having to pretend that there was nothing romantic between them. But still, it was better than nothing.

  Anders was silent as the man grabbed his sword and made his goodbyes, not throwing the mage so much as a glance, and then exited out the door. A minute or two later Hawke made some comment about getting a drink and then disappeared as well.

  Fenris was just outside The Hanged Man when Hawke managed to catch up with him, clearing her throat so that he wouldn't think she was trying to sneak up on him.

  “Hawke?” he asked, blinking owlishly at the woman, “Is something the matter?”

  “Just a little question I thought you might be able to answer.”

  He frowned, eyebrows turned down in confusion and annoyance. All he wanted to do was to go home and lick his wounds in peace, to try to forget what a disaster this had all been. But Hawke was his friend and deserved his patience. And so he inclined his head to her, telling her to go ahead.

  “Where does an elf, with little connections, manage to find three goats and a sheaf of wheat in the middle of a city and how does he then sneak those into Darktown without anyone noticing?”

  Fenris felt his heart plummet, felt his life flashing before his eyes. Hawke knew. Hawke  _ knew _ .

  “I do not understand your question,” He said, hoping he had managed to keep his tone suitably casual. “I would know nothing about any of those things.”

  “Don't bullshit a bullshitter, Fenris.” Hawke’s tone came out briefly harsh before she softened it. “I knew it had to be one of you four- Isabela would never attempt subtlety like that and, furthermore, wouldn't bother with courting. If it had been Merrill she would have broken down the moment Anders walked through the door and Varric… Well, Bianca would never stand for it.

  “And as wild as that conclusion was, it was the only one that made sense. You and Anders…” She shook her head, staring off into the distance. “None of us even suspected.”

  “Please,” he said, feeling ill, “You can tell Anders, but don't tell anyone else. He- We-” he shuffled his feet uncomfortably. “Anders would be humiliated if the others knew about… Us.” 

  Hawke watched him for a long moment then, eyes strangely sad, before her head jerked up and she looked past him sharply. 

  “I don't know that that's my call anymore,” she said and Fenris slowly turned around to see who she was staring at.

  Anders stood in the doorway of the tavern, watching the two of them, face disturbingly blank. He was close enough that he had undoubtedly heard everything but too far away for Fenris to reach out and touch.

  “Well,” Hawke said, “I'll leave you gentlemen to it, now that I know you  _ probably  _ won't kill each other.” With that she walked swiftly forward, brushing past Anders and re-entering the bar without another glance at either one of her companions.

  Anders finally closed the door, giving them some privacy but also shutting out all the noise and warmth of the tavern, leaving a large, awkward silence sitting between them. 

  Fenris was the first to break it, hanging his head down and saying, “I am so sorry. I will- Get rid of the goats and assist in cleaning the clinic and replace your supplies-”

  “Fenris,” the sound of Anders voice cut through his babbling, silencing him. For a long moment the mage didn't speak and Fenris prepared for him to end it, all of it, this brief, happy dream that had been theirs for a little while. “Why?”

  His head shot up at the question and he found himself staring into Anders eyes.

  “I- I heard from Aveline that it was… I wanted to show you that you were important to me. That I cared for you, beyond our bedrooms.” He paused and when Anders did not say anything continued, “I know that it was presumptuous of me, but felt it worth the risk. Or at least,” he winced, “I did before I realized what havoc a few farm animals can wrek.”

  Anders’ heart was pounding with the revelation of what Fenris had done, with what it meant. He’d always assumed that what was between them was superficial at best but maybe… He had to be careful of what he said next, lest he ruin it all by taking things too far, too fast.

  He opened his mouth to say something witty or romantic or at the very least a little charming and casual but instead what popped out was, “I love you.”

  Fenris stiffened and mentally Anders kicked himself. Casual indeed.

  “I-” Anders opened his mouth to backtrack, to try and remedy some of the damage from the bomb he had just dropped when Fenris spoke up.

  “Do you? Truly?” His voice was soft, husky, and full of a warmth that Anders felt down to his very bones.

  “Yes,” He said, “Maker help me, I do.”

  “I could ask for nothing greater than the affection of a man such as yourself.” Fenris looked away and then his mouth turned downward slightly as he said, “But I am as inexperienced in the emotional aspects of romance as I once was in the physical. I will try my best but…”

  “But sometimes you will attempt to show your affection with three loud, foul smelling beasts that destroy my home?”

  Fenris looked up but when he saw Anders looking at him fondly instead of with anger he found that something settled in him, something important and large.

  “I try not to repeat my mistakes but yes, something of that level.”

  He stepped towards the mage then and when he did not move away he stepped closer again, until they were nearly flush with each other.

  “I…” Fenris was ill-prepared to make any eloquent, dramatic declarations of love to Anders and so instead he settled on, “Love you too. Always.”

  “Always,” Anders replied and then he took his hand, beginning to lead him back to his mansion in Hightown. There was a lot that Anders was willing to put up with, especially for a man like Fenris, but consummating this new level of their relationship to the chorus of three screaming goats was not one of them.

  
  


  Fenris had been as good as his word, cleaning up the damage to the clinic and replacing all of Anders broken equipment and half-eaten bandages after getting rid of the goats. Anders did not ask what exactly he had done with them but for a little while the fetid smells of Darktown mixed with the enticing aroma of an old, familiar soup that several of the Ferelden refugees would certainly have known how to make.

  In between repairing the clinic and remaking several of the potions he had lost Anders and Fenris spent as much of their time as possible wrapped up in each other, both high from the heady sensation of new love. Hawke had eventually come to drag Anders away on some mission but now he was almost home and could perhaps steal up to Fenris’ mansion for a little visit.

  When he opened the door to his clinic, however, he saw a box and a parcel wrapped in plain brown paper sitting on a cot. On top of them sat a plain piece of cardstock with some words carefully printed on it. 

_ A proper courting gift, for you,  _ was all it said. It was unsigned, but then Anders already knew who it was from. 

  Trembling a little from both excitement and nerves, though Anders tried to remind himself that his clinic was so far still intact, he first turned to the parcel and carefully opened it.

  He inhaled loudly at the dainty pieces of fabric as he held up the article of clothing, if it could be called that, before him. It was white and lacy, trimmed in gold and so decadent that he felt a little naughty just for holding it.

  And then he heard movement from inside the box along with a plaintive little meow and his heart nearly stopped.

  
  


  Although it had felt a little weird Fenris had made the decision to wait inside the clinic while Anders opened his gifts. Partly because he wanted to see the mages reaction and also because he was a little afraid of leaving the kittens alone, recent history considered.

  He had imagined a lot of different reactions from Anders when the man inevitably opened the box- Happiness, laughter, perhaps even his feeling overwhelmed by not one, not two, but  _ three  _ kittens. What he had not expected to hear was the sound of sniffling, quickly followed by sudden, loud sobbing ripping from the mages chest.

  Quickly he scrambled out of the small curtained off space where he had been hiding, desperate to fix whatever he had obviously ruined again. He had been certain when he gently placed the box down that this would be perfect but it appeared that he had been wrong yet again.

  Before him stood Anders, head and shoulders hunched forward as he stood over the box, noisily crying as he tried to hold all three of the young cats at once. His face had become red and blotchy and tears still streamed down his cheeks.

  “Anders!” Fenris said, rushing to the man’s side, “Please, I am so sorry, I can fix this, I just need to know what's wrong.” The kittens  _ looked  _ perfectly happy and healthy but perhaps there was something wrong with them that only Anders, with his healers eyes, would be able to ascertain. 

  Anders turned to him, obviously shocked by his presence. What was worse, the fact that he was there seemed to inspire a fresh wave of tears.

  “I'm just-” Anders gasped loudly, and Fenris felt his heart clench, “S-so h-h- _ happy.” _

__ He lifted up the three kittens in his arms, holding them out slightly to Fenris. “T-they're so p-perfect,  _ you're  _ so perfect a-and I n-never thought I w-would…” 

  The rest of his words were drowned in more crying and then, when Fenris realized that they were happy tears Anders was stopped from speaking further by his kissing him,  _ soundly _ .

  When they finally pulled away, the kittens all mewling in protest at being pressed between the men, Anders seemed to have gotten a hold of his emotions.

  “When I was a young man living in the Circle,” he started, voice still a little shaky, “Angry and so sad and alone, I would dream of something like this. A home of my own, free from the confines of the Circle tower, a beautiful man who loved me and,” he sniffled, “And kittens. I just didn't think I would ever…”

  “Shh,” Fenris said holding the side of his face. “You have these things now. And you always will.”

  Anders nodded and gave Fenris a watery smile, a little embarrassed at the way he had let his emotions take over him but a lot more overjoyed with all that had happened.

  “Always,” he replied, smiling. 

  And then he was cursing as two of the kittens decided to leap out of his arms and begin to run through the clinic, bringing the best kind of mayhem.

**Author's Note:**

> i was trying to imagine what *my* reaction would be if i came home to a box with three kittens in it and given that i regularly get teary-eyed over kittens and puppies at work bursting into ugly tears is a pretty safe bet.


End file.
